


Head of the Class

by TotalFanFreak



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: AU, College, Daydreaming, F/M, Gen, Professors, Reader Insert, Reader-Interactive, Voyeurism, reader imagine, slight romance, student
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-13
Updated: 2016-10-13
Packaged: 2018-08-22 06:18:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8275783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TotalFanFreak/pseuds/TotalFanFreak
Summary: Barely out of high school you find yourself hurled into college and find yourself drawn to your young professor.Reid/Reader





	

Title: The Head of the Class  
Author: totalfanfreak  
Rating: M  
Main Character(s): Spencer Reid/ Reader  
Beta/Editor: Me!  
Multishot: Possibly?  
Author’s Notes: Oh my grope, been cleaning out the basement so we can redo insulation before winter gets here, and found a boatload of my old class notebooks, in various ones I have fanfics I screwed with during classes and this was one of them. If I can get in the hindsight again I might pick it up, tell me what you think :D.  
Morgan arc spoilers?: Nah, this was way back when probably S4 or S5 when this got in my brain…

“He needs to hurry the hell up or I’m leaving.”

You announced this to no one in particular however several heads swiveled in your direction and murmurs of agreement could be heard throughout the classroom. You take another look at your phone, 9:28 am, wasn’t that the time ten minutes ago? You’re not sure why you’re so antsy to get class started, probably because you never liked waiting especially when you had made the courtesy to be prompt. It wasn’t like you couldn’t be out doing something else; there was always something you needed to do. But you tried to remember what everyone told you, how lucky you should feel to even be where you are, barely toppled over the edge of eighteen and in an AP college class. You never strived to excel, usually answers seemed to just come naturally to you. Sighing, you started to pack up your things, figuring you could go to the library to start your abnormal psych paper when the door was slung open.  
Finally the professor arrived, young, maybe even too young for the position with his shoulder length brownish-blonde hair, apologetic doe eyes, and lanky form that was going in spastic bursts. He was tearing papers out of his worn out messenger bag when he spoke.

“I apologize for being tardy. I had a quick meeting at my other job. I’ll try to, with any luck, make sure it doesn’t happen again. But anyways, welcome to sociology, it happens to be one of my favorite topics and hope it becomes yours as well.”

Two of the jocky looking guys in the back started snickering to one another, which made you roll your eyes and give them an exasperated look, making them both snap shut.

“I have a handout for all of you. It’s basically the syllabus, telling you about my attendance policy, grading system, and what I’d like to accomplish in this semester.”

He passed them out individually, and your hand briefly clipped his when you reached for the paper.

His eyes down casted then making you smirked and whispered to him. “I like your tweed.”

This caused him to gulp and blush away, you felt bad for him now; this guy seemed to have no social skill as you observed his awkward way with each student. When everyone had a sheet he approached back up front, clasping his hands together.

“If you don’t mind I’d like us all to go around the room, stating your name and major. We’ll start over here.”

The girl seated had vivid blonde hair that would either make you burn with jealously or just burn your eyes given to your mood that day. When it was your turn you gave your name but added that everyone preferred to call you Piccolo, the name had stuck to you early on. You had never learned how to play the instrument but many agreed that the lilt of your voice reminded them of it. You were never sure if that was in your favor or not, although several years later you did get into a Dragon Ball kick so the name became all right to you. You could’ve sworn the professor smiled when you stated you were a criminal justice major hoping to expand into the world of forensics even if the criminal didn’t deserve justice. As the exercise wrapped up the clock tower outside began to chime and everyone started gathering up their things. You lingered back as you watched the professor wave to each student, refusing the outstretched hands offered.

When it was only you and him left he began collecting his own things not meeting your persistent gaze.

You sighed. “Well, aren’t you?”

He looked up, startled. “Aren’t I what?”

You began stuffing notes into your bag. “You never told us your name, professor.”

The realization met him. “I never thought to.”

He appeared to be pondering his error as you walked up to his desk. It was then he looked at you, finally seeing you there. Your face was blank, waiting in innocent expectation.

He smiled, shyly. “Um, it’s Spencer.” He stammered a moment, catching himself before adding. “I mean Dr. Reid.”

You grinned at him, setting off your sparkling teeth. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, even though you were very late today, Spencer and/or Dr. Reid.”

With that you left the classroom, a bemused expression on your professor’s face.

The next few weeks went by in a steady rhythm, but as the lessons began to dull causing you to be sleepy in the daytime and the constant party and arguing of your dorm mates in the nighttime you found your body beginning to wear at. That morning you drank enough coffee to set your blood to boil and about to burst. The effects barely lasted by the time you hit human anatomy you had to scratch and pinch to keep yourself awake. You were beginning to get self-conscious that everyone around thought you were high on something with the way you kept nodding off and jerking yourself awake every few minutes. By the time you got to sociology you were dead on your feet. Since there was no arranged seating you opted for a chair in the back, at least these were comfy, unlike most of your classes where you were stuffed into little third grader desks here you were given a regular table and random office chairs the staff had gotten rid of. Before everyone got fully seated you were already dozing. You feigned awake as

Dr. Reid checked roll and handed back the latest assignment. As he started to go over the work his voice went monotone and you were lulled into unconsciousness.  
You could hear the rustling of paper, clicking of pens, and the non-stop pounding as some secretly texted when Dr. Reid came into the room with a confident smile. It was a smile you never got to see but you automatically knew it fit him well.

Wait, he was in here already, wasn’t he?

You pushed the thought aside as you watched him shed his usual tweed jacket. Instead your full attention was on the sinewy muscles that flexed under the thin cotton of his dress shirt. He kept up with his usual talking stance in that excited voice he’d reach when he was giving out new information. You tried concentrating in the notes when you noticed everything went silent. Looking up, you saw everyone had turned to you, including Dr. Reid, who held a cocky grin on his face.

You felt frazzled. “Sorry, could you repeat that professor?”

He chuckled, and the heads swiveled back to him. “Would you mind helping me demonstrate a point? It’ll be considered extra credit.”

You nodded dumbly, forcing yourself up to where he was gesturing you to stand. Usually you were a confident person, not very well giving a damn in how people saw or thought about you. But right now as you were trying to poise yourself against the professor’s desk you felt very small as everyone gazed at in in expectation. Suddenly Dr. Reid was blocking your view of the class and vice versa. He peered down at you as you cautiously stole glimpses of him. He smiled widely at that as he reached to you and loosened the braid you wore. You stiffened, but didn’t move away, taking notice how much you liked his hands on you. They were firm and gentle, knowing what they were doing as they combed their way through your hair.

When he seemed content on the outcome he placed his hands on your waist, giving you a quick shiver, before placing you on his desk. He spun you both to the side, so you were aware of the class’ eyes back on you. You were beginning to feel anxious again, but were taken away when Dr. Reid’s lips touched your forehead, skimming down over your eyes, tip of your nose, each cheek, while skipping your lips and proceeding to your chin before latching to the hollow of your throat. You found yourself squirming as you tried to meet his lips to yours; he grasped you determinedly so you couldn’t force the pace. Finally, after his small torture, his lips reached yours, his mouth taking your bottom lip and gently sucking.  
You sighed softly, as you felt his smile, embracing you in a full kiss first testing, and feeling before his tracing his tongue along your teeth making you jerk. When he traced your lips, he sat back, perplexed.

“What flavor is that you’re wearing?”

Your half-lidded eyes blinked up at him. “It’s vanilla cream icing lip gloss.”

You tried to move back into him as he added. “Do you still have it with you?”

You reached into your pocket, almost throwing it at him as you pulled the front of his dress shirt bringing him to you again. He cradled your head in his hands, and then gestured towards the class. “Note the dilation of the pupils; this is often a usual indicator of sexual desire.”

Some of the class snickered, but they were small now, barely in existence to you anymore as your shirt began to feel a few sizes too tight as your breast swelled and strained to get out of the constraints. “In many cultures the breasts are a key interest in foreplay, perhaps going back to the oral stage in infancy revolving around breast feedings.”  
You weren’t paying much attention to what he was saying anymore, only letting the soft murmurs of his tone tingle your senses. He unclasped the material before making his way and unhooking your bra. The straps made it down your arms, the frigid air making the tips of your nipples harden. You sighed in relief as his warm breath glided across your skin.

“You’re beautiful, piccolo.”

He whispered this against you, hearing him call you that making you shiver, your body wanting contact to be made. He began fumbling with the lip gloss taking the wand and running the slippery sweet mess across your buds. He seemed to take his time as he spun the cap back on and placing the tube in his breast pocket. Eventually grasping him to you as you were granted the bliss of warm velvet lapping against your peaks.

It wasn’t until someone shook you awake did you realize how terrible you felt. You tried cringing away from the hand that was trying to take you away from the wonderful realm. As your eyes came into focus, you saw the class had emptied, leaving you with Dr. Reid who was staring at you in concern. You began to collect yourself, attempting to brush off the weariness you felt. You blushed, the heat burning your cheeks as you remembered the dream. You found you couldn’t look at your professor, only muttering a quick apology, and flee the room. It’s too bad all it took was a hand on your shoulder to stop you in place. Your stomach flopped as you were faced with him again. As you turned his hand never left your shoulder, and after, what seemed like a long silence, your professor made a gesture with his hand.

“Come back with me to my office.”

You turned your gaze to the floor, following him out. It wasn’t a very large area, supposing since he only worked part time at the school, but you found it uniquely him. The bookshelves lining the walls were filled top to bottom with large volumes of text, a stack of papers scattered across his desk, and you watched as his usual tweed was slung across the chair. What made you want to giggle were the action figures strewn across the room. Most were of Star Wars and Star Trek, but another particular set caught your eye, making the rock in the pit of your stomach fade away.

“You have the whole Justice League set? Well, no, but it’s still an awesome collection regardless.”

You fingered the plastic figurines as you heard a chuckle behind you. “I wouldn’t peg you as the type of girl to enjoy comic books.”

You shrugged, not entirely sure you wanted to know what kind of girl he pegged you as, but continued on safe ground.

“Yes, though I’m more into the DC comics than I am in the Marvel universe now, though it flops around periodically. Who’s your favorite?”

“I guess I’d be considered a fad chaser seeing as I prefer Batman. I looked up to him growing up, losing his parents at such a young age and rising above it, doing good even when things point the other way for him, not to mention he had no real superpowers of his own, and it doesn’t hurt that he was rich and good with women.”

You smiled and saw a blush come over him. “What about you, who do you like?”

“Well, Superman for sure, but I’ve always loved Zantanna, she’s always been one of my favorites.”

“Oh? A fan of magic?”

“Well, yeah, yet the get-up alone attracted me to her.”

You toyed with that particular one, admiring the leotard and fishnets; your mind turning dirty again as you wondered what the professor would do if he saw you in the outfit. You cleared your throat.

“I am sorry for falling asleep in class, Dr. Reid.”

The carefree look disappeared as one of concern replaced it. “I was worried; I know it is very unlike you to do so. Has something been wrong?”

You shrugged, facing away. “It’s nothing, really, I’m just haven’t gotten used to living with people like my dorm mates.”

Dr. Reid tilted his head to the side. “How do you mean?”

“It’s impossible to sleep there. I haven’t slept in nearly nine days, I can’t study with all the noise they make. I’m sure I’ll see how much my grades are suffering soon enough. And nothing of mine is ever in its place, it’s always being ‘borrowed,’ nothing’s clean, I’m not trying to be a neat freak but they’re driving me crazy. It makes me afraid I’ll lose my scholarship if this goes on.”

You let out a huff as a sad smile flashed on the professor’s face. “I’m sorry; it can be a terrible thing when we can’t pick our roommates. But if it’s alright with you, I may have an idea for you to try.”

You watched him fiddle with the contents of his desk. You tried to squash the butterflies as you got closer to him. “What can I do?”

His smile broadened. “Well, for starters, I can give you this.”

He put a key in your palm, and you looked to him in confusion.

“It goes to this office; you may come in here anytime you need somewhere quiet to study. And I know it doesn’t look too much for comfort, but you may always use the couch here to nap or to get away from your roommates.”

You stared at him, stunned. “You’re just giving me this? I could hack into your computer and change grades, steal answers, or screw with your schedule. And you’re just going to trust me like that?”

“Yes, because I know you won’t do anything like that.”

You stared into those doe eyes as heat barreled in you again. “Thank you, professor, you can have faith in me with this.”

You readjusted your things as he sighed. “You know I kind of thought you’d call me Spencer outside of class since you were so eager to learn my name that first day.”

You smiled turning towards the door, he called out your name tossing something to you as you faced him. You looked down at the Zantanna figurine in your hand, you smiled again not sure how you could ever thank this man. And before you could stop yourself, blurted out.

“Maybe I’m a fad chaser as well; Wonder Woman was also one of my favorites. Did you know there are some sites who dedicate themselves in saying Diana Prince and Bruce Wayne had a romantic relationship outside the League?”

As you realized what you said you bolted from the room before you could see the surprise cross on Dr. Reid’s face.


End file.
